


Walking through the Dark with You

by Inele



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Character Death, Everyone Else is Alive, James Potter & Lily Evans Potter Die, Multi, Raising Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24949645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inele/pseuds/Inele
Summary: “We… I want you to be his godfather. If you like.” Sirius blinked slowly, looked at Harry and then back at his best and oldest friend. That was… nice, he supposed. An honor even. An honor he definitely wasn’t ready for. Obviously James and Lily wouldn’t disappear and leave him to care for their child, but he would still have… duties.Sirius Black is not ready to raise a child. Then again, no one ever is.
Relationships: Remus Lupin & Harry Potter, Sirius Black & Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably going to be longer. It is definitely not going to be updated regularly. :)
> 
> For the record: I don't support J.K. Rowlings views and I'm not a fan of her as a person. I still like Harry Potter, though.

According to Sirius Black there were two types of babies: The unreal, angelic creatures of advertisement and the snotty, screaming monsters of public transport. Harry Potter was neither of those, at least not when Sirius set eyes on him for the first time. Harry was two days old. His hair was short and thin, almost as dark as his fathers. He was wrinkly, mostly bald and terrifyingly fragile. Lily and James were looking at Sirius expectantly. Sirius was looking at Harry.

“You won’t drop him.”, said Lily.

“I’m still terrified that I’ll drop him.”, said James.

Sirius was not a baby-person. He had never had the urge to coo at them or smile when they looked at him. Harry Potter was a slightly different case, of course. Mostly because he happened to be James’ and Lily’s child. The Potters were his family, more than his own family had ever been. This tiny child was his family and he already knew that he was going to love him.

“He can't hold his head up. His skull isn’t even fused together. Of course I'm afraid that I'll drop him.”, Sirius touched Harry’s head with one of his fingers. Harry’s eyes were open and when Sirius brushed the inside of his hand, he took hold of Sirius’ finger. He could hear someone, presumably James, taking pictures.

“He looks a lot like...”, Sirius stopped talking and stared at Harry some more. He didn’t look like anyone in particular, if he was being honest. He looked like a baby. 

“Like James, I know.”, Lily laughed and shook her head. “Don’t spare my feelings. He is going to be the spitting image of his father and when he is older people will tell me that he has my eyes or my smile or something equally vague.”

“Well, I happen to have a great face. Really symmetrical.”, James patted his cheeks and Sirius laughed with them, glad that he didn’t tell them that their child looked underwhelmingly and ordinarily baby-like.

“We wanted to ask you something. But first, you are required to hold our son. Come on, Padfoot. You’ve done scarier things than that.”, James hit is shoulder and leaned over the crib to look at his newborn child. Sirius looked at Lily, who calmly lounged on the couch and made no move to intervene. She was probably tired. She had just recently birthed an entire human, after all. While Sirius and Peter had spent the first few years after school doing mostly nothing, James and Lily had somehow decided to start a family. It was still something Sirius found hard to comprehend. He was barely able to take care of himself, let alone another human being. Even Remus, perhaps the most responsible of them all, was still at uni and had made no moves to settle down and aquire children.

“Fine. I’ll do it. It’s fine. See?”, Sirius tried to position his arms under Harry’s tiny body, trying to support his head and neck. He felt truly incompetent and probably looked it too. Harry didn’t seem to mind. He wasn’t doing much with his face at all, simply blinking in the general direction of Sirius’ face. Sirius wasn’t sure if he was able to smile yet. When did babies even start to have facial expressions other than the “angry screaming face”? He stood stiffly next to the crib, careful not to move his arms now that he had Harry in an appropriate position. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to place the child back into his bed without jostling him but decided that he should proceed one step at a time. Every time Harry decided to move in his arms, Sirius tensed. He could feel how soft Harry’s head was. He should definitely not have googled "baby facts", else the images of literal _holes_ in Harry's skull might not have haunted him.

“You can ask me now.”, he said after he was sure that Harry was safe for the time being. James looked oddly proud, he was smiling softly. The joys of parenthood must have really gotten to him.

“We… I want you to be his godfather. If you like.” Sirius blinked slowly, looked at Harry and then back at his best and oldest friend. That was… nice, he supposed. An honor even. An honor he definitely wasn’t ready for. Obviously James and Lily wouldn’t disappear and leave him to care for their child, but he would still have… duties. He was so unprepared he wasn’t even sure what kind of duties. Neither James nor Lily were religious, so they probably didn’t expect him to preach to the child or read the gospel to him or whatever actual godparents were supposed to do but surely they expected something. Babysitting probably. Presents maybe. He could do presents. Babysitting he wasn’t so sure of. He had never changed a diaper in his life and he was not keen on being peed on.

“Sure. I’ll be the cool uncle. I can teach him how to ride a motorbike...”

“You are most definitely not going to do that.”, Lily was rolling her eyes at him. James ,on the other hand, didn’t look particularly opposed. Sirius took it has a good sign.

“No, really, thanks. I’d like to be his godfather.” He looked at Harry. Harry looked at him. Harry’s lip started to wobble and seconds later he was screaming. Wailing angrily. Uneleashing terror upon the world. “Now, can someone please take him? Preferably _immediately_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, major character death, I guess? If you are concerned about anything, ask me.   
> There will probably be one more chapter that deals with the immediate aftermath but that's it. Angst is not really my thing.

It's almost midnight when they call him. Sirius knows that it's bad, even before he picks up the phone. Lily and James are never late, not since Harry.   
James' mum is on the phone. She's crying. She tells him that she and Fleamont are in the car, that it's going to take them a couple of hours. She asks if Sirius can watch Harry a little while longer, until they get there. He says that he can. He doesn't cry. He knows that he is supposed to feel something. Two of his best friends are dead. It's supposed to hurt. He knows that it will. But he doesn't feel anything, not yet.   
He looks around after he hangs up. A noise from the bedroom draws his attention. The phone call must have woken Harry.   
Sirius stares at the closed door for a few seconds. He doesn't want to go in there, it's their bedroom. It's their bedroom and it feels wrong to go in there. He has been there before, of course. In fact, he has already been in there today. It was him, after all, who put Harry to sleep a few hours earlier, who sang him a rock song as a lullaby and held him until his eyes eventually slipped shut. He'd thought that he would not be there when Harry woke up again. Lily and James were supposed to come back. They were only supposed to watch a movie, have some fun, a well deserved date night. They weren't supposed to die. He doesn't even know how it happened. Euphemia had told him that there had been an accident. He hadn't asked. Maybe he doesn't want to know. He feels as if he can still pretend that it didn't happen, that it is somehow not real, a mistake, a mix-up.   
Sirius shivers as he opens the door and kneels down beside Harrys crib. After a moment, he picks up the baby and carries him into the living room. The bedroom is too much. He turns off the light. 

It is dark and Harry is crying. Sirius knows that he is supposed to call someone. Remus. Peter, maybe. Peter is still in Australia, though. He should call Remus. Remus has to know. But is phone is somewhere and Harry won’t stop crying. Sirius has never watched him overnight. He doesn’t know how to put him to bed. He doesn’t know how to stop the crying. His shirt is soaked with tears and snot and no matter how gently he rocks Harry, no matter how many times he tells him that he is fine, that everything is fine, Harry won’t stop. Why would he. Nothing is fine. His parents are gone and they won’t come back. 

Eventually, he does call Remus. It takes his friend a while to pick up, he has probably been asleep. It's well past midnight now. Harry is still crying. His voice has gone hoarse and he looks exhausted. Sirius doesn't know why he just won't fall back asleep.   
"...Hullo?", Remus' voice sounds sleepy on the other end, sleepy but unconcerned.   
"You drunk dialing me again?", he asks when Sirius doesn't say anything.   
"No."  
He has no idea how to do this, no idea what to say. There are no good solutions, no right answers. He doesn't want to say it because he doesn't want to acknowledge that it is real. Maybe Harry already knows. Maybe that's why he hasn't stopped crying.   
"Sirius? What's going on? Is that Harry in the background?", Remus sounds more alert now.   
"You need to come over."   
"What happened?"  
"I...", Sirius stops. Breathes. He can't do it. Not over the phone. Maybe not at all. He doesn't want to be here. Not in this place and not in this time. Everything feels wrong and it is as if he is walking on ice that gets thinner and thinner with each step. It will break eventually, that's just a question of time. He is going to break through and there is nothing he can do about it. He knows that it is going to hurt. It doesn't now, not really. He isn't sure if he will be able to bear it. Sirius has never imagined living in a world that is emptied of James. James has been his fixture, their friendship unshakable, even during the more miserable parts of his life. A future without him is surreal. Intolerable. Unimaginable. So he doesn't say it, doesn't imagine it.   
"Please just come.", he says instead. Somewhere deep inside him, he knows that it isn't fair. Remus has to know and he has to tell him. He can't wait till Fleamont and Euphemia get here and do it for him. But he can't. He can't say it. He can't even really think it.   
It's easier to wait until the ice under his feet cracks than to take another step and break it himself. When it does break, there won't be a way up. He doesn't know if there is going a to be a way through.  
"James' and Lily's place?"  
Sirius had almost forgotten that he is still on the phone. He rocks Harry, shifts from side to side. His arms are getting tired.   
"Yes."  
"I'll be there in twenty."  
Remus doesn't question him again. He sounds scared, worried.  
Sirius presses the phone against his ear long after Remus hangs up. 

It feels longer than twenty minutes until the front door opens and Remus comes in. He turns on the light and everything seems so much more real. There are pictures on the wall, pictures of Lily and James. It seems impossible to look at them, he knows that they are there and that is already overwhelming. So he watches Remus instead. He must have hurried to get here after the call. His hair is sticking up in weird places and he is wearing an old t-shirt and baggy sweatpants. Clothes he probably slept in. And his face… he looks terrified.   
“Sirius?”  
Answering seems like an impossible task. He shifts Harry on his hips. At some point, his crying has died down to the occasional whimper but every time Sirius attempts to lay him down, he starts screaming again.   
“What’s wrong? You’re scaring me. Is Harry sick? Where are James and Lily?”  
Sirius opens his mouth, intellectually, he knows what he has to say.   
“They… They are...”, he stops. His throat feels tight suddenly and it’s as if he is choking on his own words. Something in his face must give him away. Remus drops his keys and walks up to him and everything inside him just crumbles. Suddenly he is crying and he doesn’t really notice that Remus carefully extracts Harry from his arms. There is nothing holding him up anymore and he sits down on the floor. 

It takes him awhile to to get himself together enough to tell Remus and it doesn’t really feel as if anything has changed. Crying hasn’t helped. Telling Remus certainly hasn’t helped. He isn’t sure how he is supposed to face the next minute, let alone the next few hours. Days. Years.   
Remus has managed to get Harry back to sleep at some point. It’s almost two o’clock in the morning. James’ parents are probably going to get here by four. Two more hours, Sirius thinks, but that doesn’t change anything either. Fleamont and Euphemia have helped him a lot in the past, especially after his own parents cut him off. They have done so much for him that he somehow still expects them to solve things, to make them better. It’s them he calls, when he feels to incompetent to deal with the complexities of adulthood, when he doesn’t want to bother his friends. When he just wants someone to tell him what to do. But this? There is nothing to fix.   
Remus is quiet and so is Sirius. They are on the couch and the baby monitor sits on the table in front of them. It too, remains silent. That at least is a relief. How he would have dealt with Harry’s crying for much longer, he doesn’t know.   
“I’m going to call Peter.”, Remus says after some time.   
“He’s in Australia.”  
“Doesn’t matter. It’s probably day time there anyway.”   
Sirius wonders, then, if Peter will come back for good after this. He’s been in Australia for almost two years. Apparently he found his calling as some kind of modern shepherd, working for a farmer somewhere in Queensland.   
“Okay.”, he says, as if Remus needs his permission.   
“Do you… do you want to talk to him?”  
“No.”   
He doesn’t. He had this conversation once now, with Remus, and he never wants to have it again. Remus leaves the room but he doesn’t close the door to the kitchen. Sirius watches him while he tries to reach Peter and eventually succeeds. It’s a short conversation but Remus doesn’t come back to the couch after he hangs up. He just stands there, next to the fridge with his back to Sirius. Then his shoulders begin to shake. It’s so quiet in the apartment, Sirius can hear the muffled sobs. He doesn’t move. He just sits there and watches his friend cry and it feels wrong but he just can’t bring himself to move. 

Remus does it all. He greets the Potters, he makes them tea. He talks to them. All while Sirius huddles on the couch and doesn’t say a word. Remus even hugs Euphemia while she cries and Sirius doesn’t understand how he does it. How he manages to hold himself together so well, able to be everything that is expected of him and then some. Sirius can’t. He feels frozen in place and unable to interact with anyone. 

After a while, the Potters send them home. They don’t say it like that, of course, they just suggest that it would be good for everyone to rest in their own beds. At some point, the Potters will have to go to the hospital. Arrangements will have to be made. Sirius knows that but he only has a very vague idea about the procedures. No one close to him as ever died. He doesn’t want to think about everything that comes after. So he doesn’t argue when Euphemia and Fleamont suggest that they leave. He nods, he even manages to hug them. Remus follows him through the door and to the parking lot. They look at each other when they arrive at their vehicles.   
“Come with me.”, Remus gestures to his car while Sirius rummages in his pocket for his keys. His motorbike is right next to Remus’ car, it looks almost gray in the dark.   
“You don’t need...”, he starts to say but Remus interrupts him before he can finish the sentence.   
“Maybe I do.”, he says and Sirius looks at him. He understands, then. It’s not pity, maybe not even concern. Remus doesn’t want to be alone either. He’s lost them too.   
“Okay.”  
They get into the car and they don’t speak while they drive through the night. It’s not far to Remus’ apartment. All of them live pretty close, except Peter. Lived pretty close. It’s over now. Sirius doesn’t even know what they are without James. To some extend, he has always been the heart of their group and now everything is broken.


	3. Chapter 3

He wakes up to the sound of an alarm. At first he thinks that it must be his own phone and there is a moment where he isn’t aware where he is or what has happened. For a few seconds he feels just that: warm and comfortable and blessedly empty. Then it all comes back. When he opens his eyes, he finds himself on Remus’ couch. He can see his friend across the room, Remus is sitting up in his bed and fumbling for his phone. Sirius doesn’t say anything while he watches him and Remus doesn’t acknowledge him either. The other man turns his phone off and buries his head in his hands.

Sirius closes his eyes and sinks back into his pillow. He wants to fall asleep again. He just wants to stop existing for a while, until it doesn’t hurt so much anymore and loss isn’t the only thing that fills his brain. James and Lily’s absence is loud and all encompassing, almost all of his memories include them in some way and when he lets his thoughts drift, it feels as if his head is a minefield. A week has passed since it happened. It doesn’t feel like it. He just stayed with Remus and he called in sick to work. The funeral is today and it still seems unreal.

“I think I need to eat something.”, Remus says after a while and he sounds so tired that Sirius lifts his head again to look at him.

“Low blood sugar?”, he asks when he sees Remus opening his bedside drawer with one hand while rubbing his head with the other.

“Probably. Haven’t checked yet but I do have a headache.” Remus answers with a shrug, he is yawning now but he does grab his kit and extracts himself from his blanket.

Sirius stares at him for a second. He would like to stay in bed and if he can’t sleep, he can at least stare at the ceiling and try not to think. He doesn’t want to move and he doesn’t want to eat and he could just lie here, if he really wants to. It wouldn’t be healthy exactly, but he has the luxury of not caring about his health for a day or two. Remus doesn’t. Maybe that thought is what spurs him into something resembling action after a moment.

“I’ll… I’ll make us something to eat.”, he says and Remus just looks at him for a second before he nods and moves into the bathroom.

It takes Sirius a bit longer to get out of bed. He can hear water running and then it’s mostly silent for a while. He does stare at the ceiling for a bit before he decides that getting up can’t possibly make him any more miserable than he already is.

Remus is one of those people who actually do have real food in their kitchen. While the kitchen itself consists of a barely functioning stove, an ugly counter top and an old fridge, the vegetables are all fresh and the eggs haven’t reached their expiration date by a long shot. Sirius isn’t particularly good at cooking but he does know how to scramble eggs, so that’s what he does. He throws in a few tomatoes and some spinach for good measure. Just when he starts loading up two plates, Remus joins him in the kitchen and sits down at the table.

“Juice?”, Sirius asks and Remus nods, so he pours him a glass before he puts down the meal in front of him.

“Thanks.”, Remus starts sipping on his juice and Sirius joins him at the table after getting his own food and some water from the tab.

“You ok?”, he inquires after a few seconds of silence.

“Physically? Yeah.”, Remus shrugs and stares into his juice, he is clearly avoiding Sirius’ gaze.

“Good.”

Sirius pushes his food around with his fork. He feels vaguely nauseous. It’s hard, he thinks, because it seems so trivial and unimportant to sit here and eat together. It feels like pretending when they both know that nothing is fine.

“I’m sorry.”, he blurts out after a while and Remus looks at him, dumbfounded.

“What for?”

The thing is, Sirius isn’t even sure. He knows, vaguely, that he has expected Remus to keep it together while he himself fell apart. It doesn’t feel as if he could have acted differently, even if he tried to. It’s still not fair.

He starts talking, unsure of himself. “They are… they were your friends. They were your friends too and I’ve been useless.”

“You’re allowed to grief.”, Remus answers, he doesn’t even hesitate.

“So are you.”

He watches Remus. His friend has stopped eating, he is looking at his plate, the fork is still in his hand.

“I know. I am.”

Sirius swallows hard and averts his gaze. He doesn’t know what does it, maybe it’s the way Remus says it or maybe it’s the look on his face.

“I’m sorry.”, he says again and he feels so guilty and it isn’t fair, not to him and not to Remus and most certainly not to James and Lily. Or to Harry. Sometimes it’s hard to remember Harry because to Sirius, he has always belonged to his parents. He is is own person, in many ways, but he is still so tiny and dependent and he isn’t supposed to be on his own.

“It’s ok. Just...”, Remus hesitates for a moment before he continues to speak, “Maybe try to be here with us, if you can.”

*

Sirius does try. It’s November and it’s raining, so every one is huddling under a variety of dark umbrellas during the funeral. Harry is there and he is the only one who is not wearing black. His rubber boots are yellow and his jacket is red but the vibrant spots of color among the black and gray do not make the scene any less depressing. Sirius hugs Euphemia and Fleamont, he talks to them a little and he carries Harry around when he gets to heavy for them. Harry is clingy and unhappy and Sirius thinks that he probably shouldn’t even be here. He is a little more than a year and he mirrors emotions a lot. It was nice, when the people around him where mostly smiling. It isn’t now.

Sirius isn’t sure how much of Harry’s feelings can be attributed to the misery of the adults around him and how much is just him missing his parents. There were two things, two beings in this world that Harry could name: mama and dada. He can’t even imagine what it feels like when the only things in your life you have a word for are suddenly gone.

He isn’t sure what is going to happen to Harry. Either Lily’s or James’ parents will probably want to take care of him and that must be for the best. Sirius is his godfather but that doesn’t mean anything nowadays. Besides, he is not fit to raise a child and he will never be able to be a replacement for James or Lily. How could he? Harry had parents and they were perfect and now he will never really know them.

Sirius rocks him from side to side and he helps him throw flowers into their graves once it’s their turn to do so. Afterwards he just stands there for a while.

Marlene and Dorcas come over and they hug him and Marlene sobs when she does. He pats her back with his free hand and he doesn’t remember what he says to her.

Then Lily’s parents come back and they take Harry from him and Sirius lets them. He can’t bring himself to leave but it’s still raining and Harry needs to get back inside.

There are still some people who wait for their turn to go up to the graves and say there goodbyes and Sirius watches them absently. One of the faces in the rain is both familiar and unexpected. Regulus has come. He is closer to his little brother nowadays. After Regulus revealed to their parents that they were cursed with not one but two queer kids a few years ago, it just seemed logical to rekindle their bond of brotherhood. They haven’t talked since the accident. Sirius, unable to muster the energy for a call, had just texted Regulus and refused every offer to talk or meet.

“Hi.”, he says when Regulus comes to a stand before him and shifts awkwardly for a moment.

“Hi.”

Regulus stares at him and then he moves, suddenly very purposefully, and envelopes Sirius in a crushing embrace.

“This is horrible and you can always talk to me.”, Regulus is mumbling and he talks so fast that Sirius is barely able to tell when one word is over and the next begins.

He nods and extracts himself from Regulus’ arms. “Thanks.”

There isn’t much to say. He knows that Regulus is serious about his offer but he can’t imagine taking him up on it. It’s still hard enough to think about what happened much less to talk about it aloud to another person.

Regulus steps back and looks around. Sirius looks at his shoes. They are muddy and wet and his socks are starting to feel damp. He doesn’t care.

“Where are your… where are Peter and Remus?”, Regulus asks and Sirius shrugs.

“Peter couldn’t make it. Flights were too expensive on such a short notice. Remus is… around somewhere.”

He buries one of his hands in his pocket and tightly grabs his umbrella with the other one. He is trying but every interaction drives him closer to an edge. The condolences, the pitiful glances, the offers for support and all the touching… it’s exhausting.

Regulus raises his voice once more. “I can drive you home, if you want. Didn’t see your bike in the parking lot. We could get...”

“Remus drove me. You can leave.”

He interrupts his brother before he can finish and his words come out much harsher than he intended.

Regulus doesn’t call him out on it. He just nods and moves away. Sirius is almost angry and he isn’t even sure why.

*

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, alone at the grave of two of his best friends. It’s still raining and he is soaked, the umbrella isn’t helping much at this point, but he can’t bring himself to care. On some level, he is aware that he should go looking for Remus and drive back home. He has to go to his own place at some point but he isn’t there yet. It’s exhausting. Everything is.

He hasn’t cried once since the first night and there is a certain numbness to his pain. It hurts, it does, but he doesn’t really know how to feel it. He doesn’t want to, either. Whenever he can, he avoids the craters in his head were Lily and James used to live.

“Sirius.”

For a moment he thinks that the voice belongs to his brother. He hasn’t heard anyone approach but he wasn’t paying attention.

“Let’s go home.”

It’s Remus. Of course it is. Sirius lets himself be guided until they reach the parking lot. Remus opens the door to the passenger seat for him and he gets in. He looks at the raindrops on the window shield while they drive. Remus stops at a red light and Sirius lets his gaze wander to the storefronts to his left. One of them used to be a toy store. It’s closed now but he can still see some of the furniture through the dirty windows.

“Sirius?”, Remus’ voice is quiet and his friend reaches over and squeezes his arm once Sirius looks over to him. He wipes at his eyes. He didn’t realize that he has started crying.

It’s stupid, he thinks. The toy store is nothing special, he went there once with James and they didn’t even buy anything. It’s just a store and he doesn’t understand why he is still crying but he can’t stop.

Remus pulls over into the parking lot of one of the stores and leans over in his seat. It’s awkward and uncomfortable but Sirius lets himself be hugged and once he realizes that Remus is crying too, he hugs him right back. They are almost clinging to each other and it doesn’t feel better, exactly. It just feels less lonely.


End file.
